


That's Not A Bloody Calendar!

by GalacticSaz



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Late Night Writing, Not Beta Read, Protective Scotland, Scotland swears, What Happened?, not proof-read, this was meant to be funny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 13:54:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18262652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalacticSaz/pseuds/GalacticSaz
Summary: France insists it's a calendar, but England knows better. And Scotland, well, he was just passing by when his big brother senses kicked in.





	That's Not A Bloody Calendar!

**Author's Note:**

> It's too late to be writing why have I done this? Also, NOT DEAD XD I am very much alive, just a busy mare now..  
> And yeah, this was meant to be funny, but it got like, deep? No, not deep.. what's the word I'm looking for? Hm... Well, it's not funny, that's for sure XD Hope yous enjoy it anyway :')

“So, Britain… I have something important I’d like to say… I would like... for you to marry me…”

England sat staring at France in shock, face blank as he processed what he just heard. Was the blonde being serious? Was this a joke? This had to be a joke right? England honestly doesn’t know what to believe in this moment, but he’s banking on this being a joke. After all, if he took it seriously and it _was_ a joke, he’d never live it down.

Still, even though he kept that in mind, England couldn’t keep the trepidation from his voice.

“That’s very funny France. I don’t believe it is April Fool’s Day yet.”

He paused, waiting, _hoping_ , for France to gain some semblance of joy in his demeanour. Seconds ticked by, and with them France seemed to crumble a little. The flamboyant man remaining in a state of hopelessness.

That sent alarms ringing in the Brit’s head. Quickly, he rose to his feet, laughing to lighten the mood. Though, the sound was warped with slight hysteria. If this was a joke, France was apparently going to take this _really_ far.

“What’s the matter old chap?! You can’t even afford to buy a calendar anymore?!”

He laughs again. This time, it’s definitely desperate. The only change in France’s posture this _entire time_ , was the wince he gave at that attempt at humour. Now England was scared. What the bloody Hell was that frog thinking?!

“You are wrong, mon amie. And this is not so funny.”

“Right! What the Hell is wrong with you?!”

England took a step back as France slid a sheet of paper forward. Gently, he placed a pen beside it, face downcast as he spoke.

“Here, take this..”

“That’s a marriage registration form you idiot!”

Meanwhile, Scotland was walking through the corridors in his brother’s house, looking for said blonde. He was unaware they had a guest, so when he heard England shouting, he got rather confused. For a moment, he assumed it was England talking to the mythical creatures again. Then he heard another, familiar voice, and pressed his ear to the door. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion and growing annoyance.

“No it’s not. Can’t you see? It is a calendar.”

The older blonde nation stated as he grabbed England’s hand, making sure the other was holding the pen first. England visibly paled, realisation setting in. France was serious. He was about to make England marry him by bloody force!

“It’s for you! It is a calendar!”

“What has come over you?! Unhand me you fobbish twit!”

Scotland grit his teeth on the other side of the door. What in the bloody Hell was that frog doing to his little brother?!

France applied more pressure to his grip, forcing England’s hand down onto the paper. Forcefully scribbling England’s name on the form. The Brit shaking with horror. There was no way he was going to let the other nation get away with this!

It was then that England remembered. He hadn’t eaten yet! Scotland was probably sat waiting for him so they could grab lunch! Curse this frog and his timing!

“Just sign it!”

“I will do no such thing!”

England shouted out, using all of his strength to fight back. It really sucked how he wasn’t at full power because of his hunger.

“I said sign it!”

“No! Stop it! NO! I don’t know what you’re up to but I don’t like it!”

He finally managed to push France back a bit, lifting the pen from the paper and halting the strokes mid signing.

“Look, I don’t want any part of this either but we don’t have much of a choice!”

In an attempt to convince England, France pulled back a little so he could show the Brit his expression. Half way between pleading and depressed. Not that it mattered. England was a stubborn one, and if he didn’t want to partake, then he wouldn’t.

“Come on, blame the Suez Canal! That thing has put me close to bankruptcy! If I don’t get married to you right away, I heard my Pa say he would kill me. That would suck!”

“That is still not a satisfactory reason to be wed! Have at you!”

The younger nation broke free of the hold and turned to the table, pen in hand. In the next instance, he was scratching the pen furiously over the sheet of paper, completely ruining it and anything that could have gone onto it.

From his place behind the door, Scotland grinned.

“This is what I think of your damn form!”

“No! What are you doing?!”

“Now you see! This is what happens when you try to force someone to marry you, frog!”

England stated as he stood tall, face still set in panic. That was a close one. He was almost a husband! He’s too bloody young damn it!

“You brute! Devil! Don’t you even care if I die?!”

Before England can retort, France is manhandling him again. This time, it’s to shake him.

“Please, I’m begging here! You have to listen! I can become England’s little French village if you want me to! Come on, help me!”

England was getting sick and tired of the older blonde’s blabbering. He said no and he means it damn it!

“I will not fool! Why on Earth would I ever want to marry you?! First of all, you need to learn how to deal with and accept you failures-“

Before England can finish his sentence, France grabs him from behind, hooking his arms around England’s armpits. He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he starts laughing as though he’s thought of a fool proof scheme.

England, with what meagre strength he has at the moment, fights the hold. However, he’s not at the best angle, and kind of just flails.

“Unhand me this instant you smelly-”

A loud bang rings through the room as the door slams open. The two turn their heads to see Scotland stood in the doorway, clearly pissed. England feels himself turn a few shades lighter. It’s been a while since he’s seen his older brother so annoyed, and he was hoping he’d never have to see it again.

“Ye fuckin’ bastard, what are ye doin’ to me brother?!”

The shorter blonde had to blink in his shock. What was happening? Was Scotland trying to… _defend_ him?

“Not to worry mon amie. I am only helping him form a marriage with me.”

“A DIVNE CARE WHAT YE WANT TO DO BUT YA GONNA LET ENGLAND GO YE BLOODY BASTARD!”

With that, he stormed over to the two and pried England from France’s grasp like it took no effort at all. The younger Brit too shocked to do anything past staring at his brother. Meanwhile France was quickly coming to his senses and regretting his decisions.

He backed away with his hands raised, noting how the redhead was biting down on his cigarette. If he applied any more pressure, the thin stick would probably snap. That thought alone freaked the eccentric blonde out.

“Mon vieil amie! I-“

“Shut yer trap! We’re gonna eat lunch, and yer gonna leave.”

England couldn’t even argue as he was pulled from the room by a very angry Scotland. It wasn’t until they reached the big dining room that Scotland actually let go. The redhead muttering to himself as he sat down and took a sip from his mug.

England sat down a moment later, watching his brother. He lifted his warm cup of tea, that he has no idea how or when it got there, and slowly drank. Seriously, _what the bloody Hell just happened_?!

“Wh-“

“Drop it.”

Scotland cut in before he could even ask. Still, it seemed as though the redhead had calmed considerably. And, now that the moment had passed, England could see it for what it was. France was desperate and grasping at straws, nothing new there. What was a tad odd, was Scotland stepping in to save him. Yes they work together when it really matters, but even when England was a small country, Scotland strongly believed that the best way to grow was to learn for yourself and train to protect yourself.

That’s the Scotland he knew, and yes, loved. This seemingly random protectiveness was very much new. But, he couldn’t say he didn’t like it.

With a smile, England quietly enjoyed a beverage in the company of his eldest brother.


End file.
